Candlelight Fantasia
by Eric A
Summary: A tale of Beatrix as she fights against a threat to the throne...resubmitted and completed
1. Part 1

Candlelight Fantasia

There was talk of sedition.

There always was in Alexandria, as there probably was in the capitals of any land on the Mist Continent, ranging from the drunken boasts of braggarts who believed that they could lead better than those appointed by station to lead their lands to genuine threats posed by those who coveted power and sought to attain it. General Beatrix of the army of Alexandria was aware of both types, and while she viewed the former type as being somewhat inevitable...it was the way of fools to believe that they had the answers that their leaders did not...she viewed the second type as being dangerous. It was her sworn duty to protect the throne of Alexandria, and she took it as seriously as she did anything else...and given that she had trained herself to be the greatest fighter on Gaia, putting herself through training that would have broken some easily, that said something. She viewed traitors with the ultimate disdain, because in her mind, to break faith with a ruler was to break faith with one's self, and that, to her, was an unbearable crime.

Nearly as unbearable a crime as what the man that she and her guards pursued had committed.

She only had a few details, shouted to her by one of her lieutenants, Maia, as she had begun the pursuit; that a guard detail had encountered a man attempting to gain entry to the upper levels of the castle, where Queen Brahne and Princess Garnet lived, and in the process of determining his intent, the man had drawn a short sword and had wounded one of her guards. Now he fled through the maze of the lower levels, clearly lost and in a panic; she could hear his footsteps just ahead of her down the corridor that they both ran down. The criminal, Beatrix judged, was going as fast as he could, while she was barely exerting any effort at all. Beatrix sometimes wondered if that was fair, and decided that it was. If you wanted to be strong, you could chose to be strong, and so you were. She knew the layout of the castle as if it were the back of her hand, and she knew that the chase at least would end shortly, in a dead end, and she prepared for combat. That it was unlikely that this man could defeat her never entered her mind; she never took chances in combat. Ahead, she heard the man run into the obstruction that she had recalled, a solid oak door locked from the other side, serving as a security checkpoint within the castle, and he swore as she came around the corner. The criminal was dressed in the fashion of a native of Alexandria, in fairly decent clothing that suggested he was a merchant or some sort of trader, which was probably how he had gained entry into the castle. Merchants had too great a run of the lower levels of the castle, Beatrix knew, a thing that she had always disliked, but Alexandria was known for its commerce, and a certain amount of trading had to be negotiated through the castle itself. As the man, who was thin faced, almost sallow in complexion, turned to face her, Beatrix resolved to change this to whatever extent that she could. The criminal saw her, truly saw her, and went pale. "You...you're..." he gasped. "You're Beatrix!"

Beatrix nodded resolutely. "Yes, I am. You invaded areas that are off limits to you, you attacked and injured one of my soldiers, and you are under arrest. Make things simpler and surrender to me, sir."

Ordinarily, her reputation as the greatest swordswoman in all of Gaia was enough to disarm most fighters, yet, strangely, this one took a tighter grip on his short sword and assumed a combat stance. "I can not betray my master that way! Face me!"

Beatrix let her hand fall to the pommel of Save the Queen, her warblade, yet did not draw it. "I don't think you're worthy of facing my blade," she replied, not boasting, simply making a matter of fact statement. "If I draw my sword, you die, that is the truth, and you know it."

"Do not mock me!!!" The criminal raised his blade and charged her, an exceptional attack for most fighters; as usual, he aimed for her right side, for the eye that she concealed under a silk bandanna. _They can be so predictable, _Beatrix thought. To the naked eye, it seemed as if she scarcely moved, a mere dip of shoulder and head, and the criminal's strike missed. He tried to bring his blade up at her, aiming at her ribs, but she spun away, still leaving her sword in its place. "Fight me!!!" the criminal bellowed, his frustration evident as he swung his sword at her in an over handed arc...

...that ended when Beatrix effortlessly caught the blade in one gloved hand, as if she was catching a ball thrown to her by a child. The criminal struggled to move the blade nearer to her face, but she remained resolute, almost like a rock. "You never had a chance, poor fool," she told him, pulling the sword from his hands with ease. She expected that to end the fight, but amazingly, it did not; the man balled up his fists and attacked again. _What drives this man to continue to struggle against me? _she wondered. She decided it was time to end the fight, and she struck the man once, on the temple, with the flat of his own weapon, knocking him out. She found she almost admired his tenacity; had he possessed any ability of his own, it could have been an interesting battle.

From behind her, she heard the clatter of feet, and she turned to regard a detail of guards led by Maia, the red haired beauty that had notified her of the attack on one of her people. There were four more of the female soldiers of the Alexandrian army behind her, showing how prepared for the situation Maia was. It was hard to catch Maia with her guard down, Beatrix knew; she had trained her well. Maia saluted the general, then looked down at the unconscious heap of the criminal. "Well done, General," Maia said.

"He was a stubborn one," Beatrix admitted. "He continued to battle even after I disarmed him." She handed the short sword over to Maia. "His weapon. How is the guard he attacked?"

"Larissa? She'll be fine. The wound was long but not deep. She'll have a scar to remind her to be careful in battle."

Beatrix toed the unconscious heap of the criminal with the toe of a boot. "Something made this man fight me even when he stood no chance...he mentioned having a master. We need to discover who this man works for, as soon as possible. Take him to the prison area and find out for me, Maia. Then double the guard in the common areas to prevent this happening again, but keep it quiet...use the domestic guard." The domestic guard consisted of women of arms disguised as common castle servants, and usually guarded the upper levels, or when the Queen and Princess appeared in public. Beatrix liked the idea of having soldiers operate under a cloak of relative invisibility. "Queen Brahne will doubtlessly approve of the idea of enhancing security once I tell her how close this brigand was to her and the Princess."

"One can only hope that Her Majesty sees with the clarity of her general, ma'am." Maia nodded to the unconscious form of the criminal, and two of her guard lifted him to his feet and bound his hands behind him. "Whatever he knows, we'll find out."

"I have complete faith in you, Maia. I need to report to the Queen." Maia saluted her again as she walked away, but Beatrix's mind was elsewhere. _Who sent this man here...and what was his true purpose in entering the higher levels? _Beatrix knew that she would find out...Maia was nothing if not thorough...but until she found out the reason why, she would remain troubled. 

One could not help but be amused at Adelbert Steiner and his Knights of Pluto Beatrix considered as she enter the throne room and saw that Steiner was already there, gesticulating wildly as he addressed the Queen. 

The Knights of Pluto were amongst the few male units left in the Alexandrian military, and, once upon a time, they had been amongst the elite fighters of the Mist Continent during the age of warfare that had created the current political structure of the land. Times, Beatrix knew, had changed. Steiner was by no means an incompetent fighter, but his skills lacked in comparison to hers, and her influence upon the Army, in the form of the discipline she brought to the female units, had weakened the already tenuous position that the Knights of Pluto were in further. It was all too bad, Beatrix mused; beneath the bluster and eagerness to prove himself to Queen Brahne, Steiner was a loyal knight. "Your majesty, there are knights already in position to safeguard the Princess, but the throne room is too accessible to attack," Steiner was saying to the Queen. "Perhaps it would be prudent if you relocate to your quarters until this brigand is apprehended."

Brahne nodded her head towards where Beatrix stood. "General Beatrix's presence here suggests that the intruder has been dealt with, and if not, I certainly feel that there is little that one man can do to me with her defending me."

Steiner turned towards her, a sullen glare on his face. "General, have you apprehended the intruder?" he asked.

Beatrix ignored Steiner and, following protocol, bowed to the throne and to the woman who sat on it. It was not given to Beatrix to criticize the Queen, but she could not fathom allowing herself to become the slovenly, rotund woman that the Queen appeared to be. It offended every sense of discipline Beatrix had, but Brahne was the Queen, and as such she deserved respect. "Your majesty," she began, "the intruder is in custody. I dealt with him myself."

"You did, and yet he still lives?" Brahne chuckled. "Beatrix, you're losing your edge," she chided her general.

"The intruder spoke of having a 'master', your majesty. Leaving him alive seemed prudent until we can ascertain exactly for whom he is working."

Steiner frowned. "Do you believe that a foreign government dispatched this man?" he asked.

"I am not willing to hazard a guess, _Captain,_" she replied, emphasizing his rank in such a fashion as a way to remind him that he had neglected to use her rank. "Once we have questioned him, then we will know." Steiner nodded; he might fancy his Knights to be rivals to hers, but he was aware of how efficient her knights were; Maia would get to the truth. "However, your majesty, the intruder was dressed in the garb of a merchant. With all due respect, the freedom given to merchants in the castle is a risk to the safety of you and the Princess. I humbly request that you allow me to increase the usage of the domestic guard, and limit access to certain areas of the castle."

Brahne's eyes narrowed. "Alexandria is a harbor city, General. Our vessels travel the oceans of Gaia, trading with all nations and our harbor in turn accepting trade. If word spreads that Alexandria has limited the ability of merchants to conduct business with me, it could threaten our trade status."

"Yet, your majesty, no nation could blame you for attempting to insure your safety," Beatrix replied. "And the intruder was found very close to the quarters of the Princess, after all."

Brahne considered this, then said "Increase the usage of the domestic guard...and General, I would suggest that perhaps your troops are somewhat to blame for allowing a lone intruder such access to the castle."

Beatrix bowed again. "The fault is mine, your majesty. I shall not fail you again in such a fashion."

"See that you don't, General. You are dismissed. Find out who sent this man, and why." Beatrix saluted the Queen, then turned on her heel and left the throne room. She had already transformed the moment of shame that she had felt from Brahne's rebuke into the fuel to improve further. _One never stops improving, _she thought, _one only becomes stronger._

As Beatrix exited the throne room, she saw a young girl with long hair, dressed in a white gown that bared her shoulders, approach, flanked by two of Beatrix's knights. Garnet, the fourteen year old princess of Alexandria and heiress to the throne, noticed her and called out. "General Beatrix? I understand that there was an...incident."

Beatrix turned and bowed respectfully to Garnet. "Yes, Princess, there was. Fortunately, little ill came of it."

Garnet then asked the question that Queen Brahne had not, showing one of the crucial differences between mother and daughter. "Was anyone injured, General?"

"One of my knights was wounded, but she will recover. The intruder is in captivity, and you are safe."

Garnet breathed a sigh of relief. "Could you tell the knight that was wounded that the princess regrets her injury, and that her service is valued by myself and my mother?"

"Certainly, Princess." Beatrix looked one of the knights guarding the princess in the eye, and that was order enough in this case; the knight would relay the message. Garnet thanked Beatrix, and then entered the throne room, clearly intending to see her mother. Most people who saw Garnet only saw the exterior, the lovely girl that was going to grow up to be a beautiful woman, and judged her on those terms. Beatrix knew better; there was a hidden steel to the princess, and more importantly, a sense of compassion that would serve her well when she was the Queen.

So long as she had generals such as herself to defend her when compassion failed.

The room was a space twenty feet square, adjoining the spartan quarters that belonged to Beatrix, and within that room was only a ring of candles on wrought iron stands ten feet in diameter. Beatrix stood at the center of the ring, Save the Queen in her hands, her stance casual yet prepared, eyes closed. Normally, Beatrix trained in the military training camps outside of Alexandria proper, drilling promising prospective knights, for the simple reason that her sword techniques were so powerful that they could well damage the castle if they were used here. The power of a Holy Knight was greater than the enemies of Alexandria knew, and a Holy Knight armed with Save the Queen, one of the three Sacred Swords, was nearly invincible. No, what Beatrix did here was more along the lines of meditation, training her mind, in a setting that she found familiar. She calmed her thoughts and concentrated, drawing on an inner calm, and as she did her sword began to move as she performed some of the basic exercises that she had learned years ago, standing in a ring of candles such as this, in front of the greatest swordsman in the land...

__

Beatrix, nine years old, seeing with both of her eyes, stands in the ring of candles that she was heard whispers about from her fellow students of her great master. She is dressed in heavy leather clothing-light compared to the armour that she would later wear once she entered the army of Alexandria, but heavy enough given her age. She carries a short sword that seems to weigh one hundred times more than the wooden practice sword she has used since she was six years old. Her master stands before her, dressed in light clothes and carrying the simplest of combat staves and she can only think: he is armed._ She has heard stories that the master rarely faces child candidates with weapons, simply because he does not need them. Beatrix does not doubt it...yet she can not help but think of the simple fact that, since he is armed, he must see great potential in her. "So," he calls, his tone jaunty, "You are Beatrix. The child who disarmed Messamer in a training duel." Messamer is the first instructor here at this rather special school that child candidates face, and Beatrix found that he looked down on the children that he trains. She had defeated him rather handily in their last training duel. "I have told him countless times that we are in the business of creating fighters here, but he persists in seeing only children. The lesson you taught him may never leave him." He chuckles. "Well, shall we begin?" He indicated the ring of candles that surrounded them with the end of his staff. "These are the limits of your life, little Beatrix, until I deem you fit. Unless you are asleep, or training with the general population, you will be here." The master laid the staff on his shoulder and looked down on her. "Why candles, you ask?"_

Beatrix managed to find her voice. "Why, sir, if I may ask?"

"Consider them a metaphor, little one. They are like life, after all. They require air to burn, just as we require it to live, and like us, a candle lives a brief existence, burning down to nothing." He slashes his staff at the nearest candle, the air of its passage blowing the flame out. "And a single blow can kill it."

"Here, then, is your goal, Beatrix. You will leave this circle when you can defeat me...but only if all of the candles in this ring are lit when you do. You are to consider them to be the innocent, who you must never bring to harm. You have the potential to become a Holy Knight, and a Holy Knight must be willing to protect life at the cost of her own. Do you understand?" Beatrix nodded. "Then attack me, little one."

Beatrix did not hesitate, did not have doubt; she attacked, a blur of motion that rivaled the speed of professional adult soldiers, her short sword slicing upward in a deadly arc with frightening speed...she senses the candles flickering in the air, and knew that she would have to learn to control her motion...but that would come later-

The most searing pain that Beatrix has ever felt in her life explodes from the left side of her rib cage.

Her master has struck her in the ribs with a motion that barely registered to her eye, and as she realizes exactly how far she has to go to in her training, her master strikes her across the jaw, knocking her to the ground and sending her sword flying. Beatrix gasps for breath, her jaw and ribs sending signals of agony to her brain that she can not deny. Her master-who is not being cruel, just doing his duty-stands over her and smiles gently. "I am not Messamer, Beatrix. Disarming me will not be easy."

Beatrix rises to one knee, an arm over her ribs, her breath coming in short, hot gasps. "Yes, sir." she manages to say, and that takes a supreme effort. She sees her sword out of the corner of her eye and she rolls towards it, sweeping it up and rolling over to return to the offensive....

Her master strikes her in the forearm, in the shoulder, and in the upper thigh in less time than it takes to tell it, and Beatrix slumps to the floor, nearly unconscious. Her master kneels beside of her and says "This, too, is a lesson, Beatrix. There will always be someone better than you. I know that you have been trained to not let your emotions show in battle, in order to better focus your abilities, but in this case, I would not blame you, child, for crying."

Beatrix rose painfully to her feet and assumed her defensive stance. "I am Beatrix of Alexandria, sir. And I do not cry."

Her master nodded sagely at her. " We shall see, little one. We shall see."

Beatrix was brought back from her musings by a knock on the door and Maia calling out, "General, we have a name from the intruder."

Beatrix walked around the room and gently blew each candle out, remembering what her master had told her about the candles as a metaphor for life. "I'll be right there, Maia," she called. 

Maia saluted her as she entered the room, and announced, "Joshua Lamplight."

Beatrix scowled. "Lamplight? Isn't he a rather minor trader?" That she had even heard of Lamplight at all was testament to the diligence with which Beatrix safeguarded the people of Alexandria; she found it prudent to know the names of every foreign resident of Alexandria.

"Yes ma 'am. Trading largely in airship and Mist engine parts, does far more business with Lindblum. Yet the intruder-Lawlthorn is his name-gave us that name."

Beatrix sat down at the desk that was one of the few furnishings in her quarters. "And you are certain of the veracity of this information?"

"Given that Lawlthorn is currently in the guard hospital due to, erm, the methods by which I uncovered this information, I'd stake my reputation on it." Maia was not a person who enjoyed the tactics of interrogation, but then Maia had been the first to discover the wounded Larissa. " He was sent by Lamplight."

"Did he tell you his mission?"

"Reconnaissance. He was ordered to see how secure the higher levels of the castle were, and that's all. He knew nothing else."

"I see." Beatrix thought about the situation, then said, "We'll need more than that to apprehend Lamplight, won't we?"

"In all probability, yes, General. Now, as to Lawlthorn, what shall we do with him?"

"Allow him to recover to the extent that he can leave the infirmary. Then return him to the cells. If he is to be executed, that choice is Queen Brahne's to make. And we'll need him to justify any action against Lamplight. How is Larissa doing?"

"Fine, General. In fact, she should be released tomorrow, and has already requested to return to duty."

Beatrix smiled; that was admirable dedication. "Request denied. She needs to recover her strength before she returns to duty. Now, tomorrow, Maia, let's plan on a visit to Joshua Lamplight. If he is guilty of this crime, then heaven itself help him."

Maia saluted again. "Yes, General." Maia took her leave then, and Beatrix considered what she had heard. _I can name ten merchants off of the top of my head that I would have suspected in this before Lamplight; he has shown no sign of wishing the throne harm, or even being a security risk. Could someone be setting him up for this? _ It was a thought to be considered, but Beatrix knew that she would not know until she stood before Lamplight and looked into his eyes. She rose and returned to the ring of candles, to train herself further in preparation for whatever life threw at her. 

To be continued...


	2. Part 2

Candlelight Fantasia

Part Two:

__

He has to know we're coming, Beatrix thought.

It was not just because, if Lamplight was guilty of the crime that Lawlthorn had implicated him in, Lawlthorn's failure to return would indicate his failure in his mission. Rather, Beatrix thought as strode down the crowded docks of Alexandria Harbor, Maia at her side as always, it was simply because she was here in the first place. Beatrix was a very recognizable figure, after all, frequently seen in public with the Queen, and her formidable reputation was bound up in her appearance. Beatrix, the Rose of Alexandria, one defeated foe had called her, and while it did not properly reflect her ability at combat, Beatrix found that she could live with it. At any rate, the moment she had stepped onto the docks, every thug who sold information was dashing to the nearest corrupt businessman to inform him that the mighty General Beatrix was coming. _If Lamplight plays the game that every trader plays, if he wants to skirt trade regulations like the others, he has to keep an ear to the wind. He'll have informants and know I'm coming. _Walking next to her, Maia studied the dock workers, sailors, and various miscreants that tended to haunt the docks of a city such as Alexandria, a wry grin on her face. "You know, ordinarily a man in a setting such as this seeing a woman with your, er, endowments would be sending cat-calls at her. Your reputation truly proceeds you, ma 'am," Maia joked. Beatrix paid her little heed-Maia had a long standing jest about her figure and the way she chose to present it, and Beatrix tolerated it. Given her usual choice of dress, leather garments with low cut, full-bodiced tops, Beatrix had little choice but to tolerate it. Maia took her silence as a sign that she could continue. "I believe, General, that approximately a third of the men you defeated in battle were staring at your bosom as they fell."

Beatrix hid a smile; it was not her way to show much emotion around her subordinates. "That is their problem. A true fighter is never distracted."

Maia looked down at herself; unlike Beatrix, Maia had the slim build of a dancer. "A fighter would never be distracted by my assets, regardless of his concentration level. And we've arrived." Maia indicated their destination with a wave; it was a small warehouse, shoe-horned between two larger warehouses, with a single story wooden structure at the front of it for office space, most likely. A sign that read "Lamplight Shipping" hung from beneath the awning over the door, and to Beatrix, it seemed like one of a hundred similar businesses that she had encountered in her travels across the Mist Continent. Seemingly sensing this, Maia remarked "My. Such an...ordinary location to hide sedition."

"Any place can hide sedition," Beatrix replied. "You are certain of the information you gathered on Lamplight?"

"I trust my source in the Shipping Guild, ma 'am. Lamplight Shipping primarily has contracts with companies that build airship and Mist engine parts. The closest thing to malfeasance that I can uncover is the usual sort of bribery involved with getting preferential Gate treatment with Lindblum. And if we arrested everyone guilty of that, trade would cease."

"Sadly, that is true." Beatrix strode towards the entrance, having formulating her strategy for dealing with Lamplight already. She would privately give him the benefit of the doubt-there was always a chance that someone was setting him up for some reason-but she would approach him as if his complicity was self-evident. If he was truly not guilty of the crime, he would not be able to hide his shock at the accusation from her, and if he was...

The reception area, for lack of a better term, was a small, comfortable place, dominated by an oaken counter, behind which stood a bookish, reed thin man that Beatrix estimated to be around fifty years of age. He looked up as the door opened and paled noticeably upon seeing who stood before him. Beatrix decided to maintain the advantage by marching up to the counter and staring directly into the man's eye, barked "I wish to speak with Joshua Lamplight!" Maia was amused to observe that, despite being surprised and very uncomfortable with the situation that had just suddenly arose, the man's eyes did fall down towards Beatrix's neckline. _I wonder if any man notices that she covers one eye, _she thought wryly.

The man, a clerk of some sort, Beatrix judged, was very taken aback by this. "Er, ma 'am..." he began.

"You will address me as General Beatrix," she informed him. 

The clerk took a deep breath, now very much out of sorts; in fact, he was sweating. "Er, General, Mr. Lamplight is on the warehouse floor, and it will take some time to bring him to you..." he offered.

"I do not have time to waste, sir. This is a matter of great concern to the security of the throne. If Mr. Lamplight is on the warehouse floor, I shall meet him there."

"C-certainly, General." The clerk lifted a hand held bell from under the counter in a slow, calculated fashion, as if he did not want her to think he was going for a weapon. _As if he would stand a chance against me, _she thought as he rang the bell three times. Presently a young boy, one with the facial features of a cat, typical of some of the lower class of Alexandria, stepped through a door behind the counter. The clerk assumed an air of superiority with the boy, back again on the familiar ground of being at a higher station than whom he dealt with, and said, "Take these ladies to Mr. Lamplight, boy. And mind your manners; they are noble women of the military." 

The boy looked up at Beatrix and Maia and bowed deeply, showing, Beatrix thought, just enough respect, tempered by an impish gleam to his eye that showed the boy's true personality. "Ladies, if you will follow me?" he requested, his tone formal. Beatrix nodded sternly, noticing that Maia was smiling cheerfully at the boy, which Beatrix understood. While she had something of a noble lineage, Maia was a commoner, having risen to her current station in life by skill at arms and willpower. Where Maia did not look down on commoners, Beatrix found that she tended to view all commoners from the point of view as Protector of Alexandria, and from the level of threat that they posed to the security of Alexandria. Maia's perspective tended to be a welcome balance for her own tendencies. The boy led them through the door that he had entered the room from and onto the warehouse floor itself, and Beatrix began studying the space with her customary caution. As was the case with most warehouses, it was filled with row after row of packing crates and boxes, thankfully (given the possibility of combat action in this endeavor) stacked neatly on either side of the warehouse, creating a wide pathway down the center of the space. Beatrix had worried that the interior of the warehouse would be a maze, difficult to maneuver through. The area was well lit, allowing Beatrix to see that no one was currently hiding in the rafters above. However, her native caution told her that it would not take much to turn this place into a fortress. There were at present only a few workers visible, moving crates from place to place on Mist Engine driven carts, mostly headed in the direction of the oversized sliding door that, in all likelihood led to the dock area perhaps seven in all. She quickly realized that she did not need the boy to direct her to Lamplight, unless her instincts were quite off; standing at the far end of the open space of the warehouse, watching workers pull the door back to allow the carts to pass through it, was a tall, black haired man wearing an overcoat and leaning on an ornate walking stick, his back turned to them. _That was to be Lamplight, _Beatrix thought. She could not help but wonder if there was an element of artifice to the scene, as if Lamplight was setting a scene solely for their benefit. The workers, she saw, had a variety of reactions to their presence, some showing surprise and worry, others showing nothing more than the barest amount of attention before returning to their tasks. 

The boy led them to behind the man and at once confirmed Beatrix's suspicions by saying "Mr. Lamplight, there are ladies of the military to see you."

Lamplight nodded without turning. "I see, Larin. Remain near at hand, if I have need of you." The boy, Larin, bowed to Lamplight, and moved away, taking up a position near the crates to the left. _A servant, then, _Beatrix thought. That explained how she had not seen any other child workers, a fairly common fact of life in many cities on the Mist Continent. As she considered this, Lamplight turned and regarded them. He was a stern appearing man, square jawed, with penetrating blue eyes, his black hair, from the front, telling the truth about his age, with a pronounced widow's peak and streaks of grey at either temple. He looked down on both of them-he was quite tall, Beatrix saw-and began the conversation by saying "Well, if it isn't General Beatrix herself, come down from the castle to slum with the common folk."

"Mr. Lamplight," Beatrix began imperiously, following her plan, "You have been implicated in a plot to threaten the security of the Queen. Do you know a man named Lawlthorn?"

Lamplight's expression was insanely calm, which only revealed to Beatrix that he could mask his emotions, be they fear or anger. "You doubtlessly believe that I do, General. Why is that?"

Beatrix maintained her cold tone. "Last night, this man was found in a high security area of the castle. When questioned about his presence there, he attacked and gravely wounded one of my knights." This was a slight exaggeration, but Beatrix hoped it would help unnerve Lamplight. Attacking a knight of Alexandria was a crime that most people considered unfathomable, and it should have shook Lamplight to the core. "Once this man was captured, during questioning he named you as the person who set him to this task."

Lamplight's expression remained unreadable. "Hmm. And I suppose that if I claim that I have no idea who this man is, or why I would ask him to invade the castle, you'll simply ignore that and arrest me outright?"

"Sir, had I deemed it necessary, I would have had you arrested last night. But Alexandria is a land of justice, and you should have the chance to defend yourself."

"How charitable of you, General. You are a credit to your type." Lamplight waved around the warehouse with the hand that did not hold the walking stick. "General, I am a man of modest means, whose business requires maintaining good will with the governments of the Mist Continent. I will not deny that that requires a certain amount of corruption to remain on a level footing with my competition. But to say that I would participate in a plot against the Queen is ludicrous."

__

A pretty speech, but one that stinks of being prepared, Beatrix thought. "Mr. Lamplight, do you know Lawlthorn?"

Lamplight surprised her. "Actually, I do, General. Mr. Lawlthorn is a former employee of my company, who worked here for some six months before moving on. He has not worked here for the better part of a month. Do you want me to produce the employment records for my employees to prove it?"

That should have been enough, enough for Beatrix to at least take Lamplight in for questioning, but something was ringing wrong with her instincts. _He isn't afraid of me, _she thought. While that reeked of sheer ego, it was a simple fact that few men who encountered her faced her with no trepidation at all. There was also the simple fact that Lamplight seemed confident that he could prove that Lawlthorn was no longer associated with him, and that muddied the issue. _Queen Brahne would use any excuse she can find to not damage the reputation of Alexandria with the merchants, _Beatrix thought. _If I have a case against Lamplight it has to be iron-clad, or she'll merely execute Lawlthorn and move on._ But what bothered her was the lack of fear coming from Lamplight. _Surely he can not believe that he could face me in battle, so what is he thinking?_ She decided to try a rarely used tack with her, the path of passive resistance. "Mr. Lamplight, I thank you for your time, and I feel I must apologize to you. We will question Mr. Lawlthorn again and see if he was merely trying to mislead us." Beatrix turned on her heel and marched out of the warehouse, Maia hurrying to catch up, privately wondering what her general was up to.

Behind them, Lamplight watched them as they left, a thin smile on his face, his hand on the walking stick clenching tighter. "She _is_ formidable, isn't she? But she's not quite properly motivated yet, now is she?" He looked toward Larin and said, "Boy, I have a task for you, if you're prepared for it." Larin bowed to his master and moved on to perform the task that he had set for the boy earlier. "Let's see, General, if I can provide the proper motivation for you," Lamplight whispered. "Let us see."

Beatrix and Maia made their way through the streets of Alexandria Town, the cobblestone roads filled with commoners moving from place to place in the patterns of their lives, patterns that Beatrix knew all too well. _Born, live, die, _someone had said to her once, _that is the one thing we all have in common. You must aspire to more than that, Beatrix._ She wondered if Lamplight believed the same thing. Beside of her, Maia wrestled with her thoughts for a while before she asked "General, why did you not arrest Lamplight? He has admitted he knows Lawlthorn...is that not enough?"

"Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, Maia, but something's not right. Lamplight...Lamplight wasn't afraid of me."

Maia sighed. She loved Beatrix dearly, and like every woman under her command, she would follow the General through hell itself, but at times her ego was a bit hard to deal with. _Sure, she's the strongest fighter in the world, but that doesn't mean that people can't face her without fear._ "General, if I may have freedom to speak, but that doesn't mean anything other than Lamplight is arrogant."

Beatrix nodded agreement. "That isn't the only reason why I decided not to act, Maia. There is the political aspect to consider. Queen Brahne would prefer it if we had more tangible proof of Lamplight's guilt, and we serve the Queen."

"Yes, General, but there are times when doing our duty overcomes the whims of politicians..."

"Our duty comes first, Maia. I may not always agree with the Queen, or those close to her, but I do my duty to them. That is how I was trained."

Maia knew there was no point in arguing; Beatrix was single-minded in all things, even her devotion to duty, and as such would never give on such a point. She was about to ask Beatrix what their next move was to be when, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed movement on one of the rooftops directly next to them. She had just enough time to realize that there was a threat to them when Beatrix's left hand snapped up and snatched a silver flash out of the air. She flipped the throwing knife that she had caught over to Maia and said "That was terribly rude," then bounded into the air in a superhuman leap that brought her down on a balcony above the entrance to a shop. The person on the roof who had thrown the knife disappeared in a hurry, Maia saw, but her concern at that time was for Beatrix. "General, wait, it could be a trap!" she shouted.

Beatrix looked over her shoulder at Maia. "I hope that it is, Maia. I hope that it is." And with another leap, she was gone over the edge of the roof and out of sight. Maia watched her go, then sighed and said to herself, "One of these days she's going to run into someone who can give her a good fight, and then what will happen?"

Beatrix landed on the apex of the triangular roof of the building that she had been attacked from to find that her attacker, a man dressed in leather armor, his face masked by a hood, was retreating at a fairly decent pace. As she watched, he leaped from one rooftop to the next, landing with a certain amount of grace. _This one might be harder to catch than Lawlthorn,_ she thought. She wondered if the man-based on his build at least, she had to assume it was a man, although she had been trained to never assume-was just run of the mill street trash or trained in the arts of the assassin; both were easy to hire in Alexandria Town. She began her pursuit, her legs carrying her at a speed that would awe most athletes, and nowhere near her top running speed. She cleared the distance between the two rooftops with ease, gaining on the attacker in seconds, already able to hear his breath as he jumped onto another roof, whirled as he landed, and hurled another knife at her. She felt the air of its passage as she ducked the knife, giving the attacker enough time to put some distance between them. Or so he thought; as he cleared another roof, leaping to a roof of a building lower than its neighbor, Beatrix jumped with all her power, landing in the middle of the roof that her attacker had just vacated. As soon as her boots touched the roof, she leaped again, one hand going to Save the Queen in preparation of drawing the sword...

...and as she came down towards the roof below, she saw that her attacker had been joined by three other men in similar garb, two armed with swords, the third armed with a Burmecian-styled lance. _Well, Maia, it was a trap after all, _she thought as she landed. _Something of an insulting one, but a trap nonetheless._ Beatrix surveyed the quartet of men and asked them, "Are you loyal to your master or simply well paid?" Lawlthorn had demonstrated a great deal of loyalty to Lamplight the previous day, although Beatrix could allow for the fact that he had merely been afraid of the merchant; she wondered how these men would respond. "You realize who you face, do you not?"

The man who had attacked her spoke, his voice muffled by the hood he wore. "We do. Beatrix, sword-slut of Alexandria."

Beatrix smiled, a dangerous, wicked smile. "It's been a long time since someone tried to bait me with anger. You are either brave or foolish." Beatrix drew her sword, Save the Queen glittering in the light of the sun. "Let us see which it is."

And with that the quartet attacked.

__

Beatrix, age eleven:

She has been in the ring of candles for two and a half years now, and things have only grown slightly easier for her against her master. For every day of the first year, she suffered a series of beatings so brutal that at times even her indomitable will faltered, her every attack defended and turned back on her with an ease that is frightening to her. But as she suffered, she learned to control her motion, until her every movement in the flickering candlelight barely moves the flames of the candles. In her second year, she began to make headway against her master, putting him on the defensive on a number of occasions, but only by taking actions that caused a candle to go out. Eighteen months of her time in the ring, she first made contact with her master, the flat of her blade catching him in the thigh. Now, a year later, Beatrix is ready to finish what she started, all those months ago. She knows her master's every move, his every defense, every action and reaction that he can take, will take, and she knows that **this** is the day that she leaves the ring. She regards her master across the ring, part of her thinking about what she learned recently from one of her classmates about him; about how his family had run a school of combat for generations in Alexandria, and how that school had faded as time had passed, and how the combat mistresses of the academy had brought him, along with a few other male instructors like Messamer, in to teach special students such as herself. Beatrix has heard that the Army of Alexandria is mostly female, and this only confirms her belief. Her master grips the well-worn practice combat staff that he has punished her with for thirty months and says "Are you ready, Beatrix?"

Without a word, she answers, attacking her master with a blow that moves faster than most eyes could follow, one that is barely met by her master's staff. She presses the advantage, her sword arcing through the air in a series of complex movements that leads to a lethal overhand strike that is only a feint for an oblique slash that slices at her master's tunic. He responds with a blow that she parries with her left forearm, and her sword blurs, slicing the combat staff in half. Before her master can continue the attack-she knows that he can defeat her with only half a staff-she hooks one of his legs with her foot and trips him, her sword knocking the staff aside as her master, for the first time in two and a half years, falls. She points her sword at his chin and said "Yield, sir."

Her master contemplates the tip of the sword that she carries and smiles. " Amazing. You toppled me so fast. I would have thought that you would need to be at least thirteen for your body to match what your mind is capable of." His smile widens. "I yield, Beatrix, for now."

She lowers her sword as her master rises to his feet and takes note of the still lit ring of candles. "Amazing, for one so young. I cannot help but wonder, though..." He walks through the candles, his motion causing not a flicker, over to the corner of a room that she can not see into due to the glare of the candles. When he returns he carries a warblade in a leather sheath, the blade four feet long, the hilts of purest silver and formed in the shape of angel wings. Beatrix feels her breath leave her as she realizes what he carries, and exactly how important her master is. "Do you recognize this blade, child?" He drew the sword then, revealing a silver blade, black in the center, unreadable runes running down the ebony surface.

"Is that...is that one of the Sacred Swords?" she asks, awe in her voice.

"Yes. Brother to Save the Queen herself, children forged from a blade of even greater legend. And my family's responsibility. No one has carried this blade but a male of my family line for centuries. It's sister, Save the Queen, has not been wielded for nearly 50 years, since the last great Holy Knight died. I believe that you will be capable of bearing her, little one, and for two and a half years I've pushed you to the point that I think you are finally ready."

Beatrix's heart sang with joy. "You mean...to become a Holy Knight?"

Her master's smile became a little sad. "No. To face my true power."

And with a single blow that she could barely track, her master disarmed her, her arm going numb from the sheer unfathomable power he possessed. Her arm fell limp as she stared in a mixture of amazement and hatred at her master. The hatred rose to the fore as he chuckled. "I have carried this sword for as long as you have lived, and have borne arms twice as long as you have lived. There is no shame in being weaker than me at present, little one. The shame comes if you never surpass me."

Beatrix composed her thoughts and cleared her mind, as she had been trained to, and stood at attention in front of her. "How did you hide so much of your power from me, sir?"

"That is what you must learn. Today, however, you have learned a valuable lesson. Your opponent is always capable of more than you suspect. It may not be true...as it stands at present, with no further training you could be one of the finest fighters on Gaia, capable of defeating most enemies...but always fight as if that is the case, and no enemy can surprise you." He nodded toward where her sword had landed. "Now take up your blade, Beatrix, and we will begin again."

Beatrix does as she was told, vowing as she did that she would become so strong that no one, not even the guardian of the Sacred Sword Grieving Angel, would be able to defeat her...and certainly not a normal man. She picks up her sword and returns to the ring of candles, not knowing that she would remain there until her sixteenth birthday has passed, and returns to combat.

The two with swords attacked at once, moving in a fashion that suggested to Beatrix that they had either been trained to fight as a team or were accustomed to. Their strikes, however, looked as if they were moving in slow motion, and Save the Queen parried both attacks. She returned the attack with a speed that was frightening to behold, her attacks disarming both men in seconds and, just as quickly, dropping both with wounds to their abdomens that were fatal. She regretted that, but she did not need all four of the men to prove who had sent them, and killing the two most dangerous ones made the most tactical sense. The one with the Burmecian lance charged her on foot, clearly using the lance for the range it gave him and not because he had any Burmecian training. She sliced the lance in half and quickly reversed the direction of her stroke, the sword striking her attacker in the breastbone and killing him instantly.

Ten seconds had passed.

The first man who attacked her, she saw, had a series of knives in scabbards around his waist, and his hands dropped to two of them. Beatrix held Save the Queen, the blood of his comrades staining its edge, and Beatrix remarked coldly, "You know that will do you no good. Tell me who told you to attack me and you live, albeit in the dungeons of Alexandria Castle. Resist and die."

The knife thrower looked from the sword to the fallen and came to a decision, and for a moment, it shocked her. He ran at the edge of the rooftop, apparently trying to make an escape attempt, but she quickly realized that the neighboring building was far too high and too far away for him to reach. Amazingly, she watched him throw himself headfirst off the rooftop, and as she reached the roof's edge with all her speed, he crashed into the ground with a gruesome crunching sound. _Dead, _she thought, _and I doubt my white magics could revive him. What would motivate him that he would rather die than tell me what I wished to know?_

She moved to go back down to the ground, to locate Maia and have a detail of guards remove the bodies, when she saw in the crowd that was beginning to gather, in confusion, around the corpse in the street, Lamplight's servant boy, Larin, looking up at her. His cat's eyes met hers, and he grinned impishly before stepping back into the crowd. She doubted his presence there was a coincidence. "Lamplight," she whispered, "it's over. Whatever you think you're trying to accomplish, it ends tonight." She turned, bent, and with the tunic of a slain man cleaned the blood off of Save the Queen before she sheathed the sword. "It ends tonight."

End of Part Two


	3. Part 3

Candlelight Fantasia

Part Three

Preparations for the attack were made quickly, and in secret.

Beatrix knew from the information that Maia had gathered that Lamplight had no listed residence in Alexandria, and his movements tended to be only from his warehouse to whichever booked passage on to go to Lindblum or Treno or whatever his destination was. He was not seen in the town inns, or the theater, and while he was on the list of traders granted access to the lower levels of the castle, Beatrix knew that she had never seen him there. She would remember if Lamplight had ever been there; it was her job, after all. That would suggest to her that Lamplight had some sort of residence within his warehouse, and spent his time when he was in Alexandria there. There were perhaps holes in that logic, but, like it or not, Beatrix had to make some assumptions to plan for her attack. Those who claimed that you could not make assumptions in combat lived in an ideal world, far away from the realities of battle; sometimes you simply _had_ to allow that certain things were a given, and hope that your assumptions did not cost someone their life. Beatrix detailed several members of the domestic guard, experts at blending in, to keep an eye on the warehouse and its surroundings to insure that Lamplight did not leave, and to follow him if he did. And this was where things took a turn towards the odd for Beatrix. She believed that Lamplight was far more likely to have a secret method of leaving the warehouse, and he would try to make an escape in that fashion. Yet Lamplight remained, appearing on many occasions (according to messengers from the docks) in the windows of the warehouse, as if advertising his very presence. Other messengers reported that the workers that had been in the warehouse earlier in the day had remained there after their customary shift had ended, and twenty more men had arrived just after nightfall. To Beatrix, this suggested only one thing: Lamplight was going to stand and fight.

None of Lamplight's actions fit the pattern of most of the revolutionaries that Beatrix had defeated in the service of the Queen, she thought as she walked towards the infirmary where Larissa was being tended to by the healers. It may have seemed odd that she was going to check on a injured member of her guard as she was also preparing to attack an enemy, but Beatrix knew that Maia could handle assembling the forces that would shatter Lamplight's forces. So she went to visit her injured compatriot, because she knew that it was expected of her. She did have her mind on the problem at hand as she made her way to where the healers worked, and all she could think of was something was wrong. _What compels men to throw their lives away for Lamplight, _she thought as she passed under the arched stone entrance to the infirmary. _Why do they fight against me with skills that my least knights, unless taken unaware, can easily best? Why is Lamplight doing this? He has no reputation for sedition, no connections we can find to the other forces that rebel against the rule of the Queen. What is his game?_

Beatrix looked around the wide space that was the infirmary, which had twenty beds for the healing of the injured and ill and currently was home only to Larissa. This was rare; training accidents alone usually accounted for two to five beds at any given time being filled. The healers, three women dressed in white, were tending to minor tasks when Beatrix walked in, and they nodded politely to her, then returned to work. _They probably don't think much of me, _she thought. _After all, the Knights of Pluto aren't known for training so diligently that their training injuries are sometimes as bad as combat ones._ Beatrix trained her troops as aggressively as she had been trained for her role as a Holy Knight, and she was as willing to suffer injury as she had always been. The healers were likely to take a dim view of her for that reason, but she cared not. The survival of her troops was the most important thing, after all. She found Larissa in a bed in the corner, sitting up, speaking to a young girl in a white gown that Beatrix was surprised to find was Princess Garnet. _Such compassion from one so young, _Beatrix thought._ If she ever adds the edge of being able to make hard decisions, she will be a formidable Queen. _Beatrix went over to the corner of the room and was almost amused when Larissa noticed her and snapped off a crisp salute, then winced from the pain that the movement brought her. Garnet turned and saw her. "General Beatrix. Are you here to visit Larissa?"

Beatrix nodded. "Yes, I am, your majesty. What brings you here?"

Garnet rose to her feet. "I just wished to see how Larissa was doing. She was injured in my service, after all. Loyalty deserves to be rewarded." She smiled at Larissa. "Get better, all right?" Larissa, who seemed overwhelmed that the princess and her general were both paying her a visit, nodded quickly. Beatrix bowed to Garnet as the young heiress to the throne swept regally out of the infirmary. "A decent child," Beatrix said, thinking not of the princess but of the reasons why she had to act quickly in the case of Lamplight. Queen Brahne could very well put a stop to the attack if she believed it would do harm to Alexandria in any fashion, and while it was dangerously close to disobeying the will of the Queen, Beatrix knew that Lamplight had to be stopped. She turned her attention back to Larissa. "And how are you doing?" she asked.

"Perfectly fine, General. I would be capable of doing my duties now if the healers would release me."

Beatrix smiled. "Larissa, I have no small knowledge of the art of white magic, and I know when someone is still injured. There will be plenty of time for you to do your duty...you just do as the healers say."

"I shall, General." Larissa was quiet for a moment, then she asked, "Is there any word on why the man who attacked me was in the castle?"

Beatrix nodded. "More than word, Larissa. In fact, by the end of the night, I hope to have brought that issue to a conclusion."

Larissa beamed at her. "I hope, General, that it is a satisfactory conclusion."

Beatrix nodded. "It will be. I'll make certain of that." _For the sake of Alexandria, I will, _she thought.

It would have been foolish to march the two platoons that Maia had assembled through town to the docks, Beatrix knew; Lamplight may have known that they were coming but he did not need to know their exact time of arrival from various low lives who would sell the information to Lamplight. So Maia had decided to load the platoons in boats and row them down to the docks, to at least manage to maintain some level of surprise. In the lead boat, Beatrix stood on the prow, listening to the sound of the rowers as their oars moved through the water, Maia as always behind her. "Bravely the General leads her troops into battle," Maia remarked in her usual sarcastic manner. "If any of Lamplight's spies are watching the river, the distinctive profile of the General will definitely give us away."

"That's quite enough, Maia." Maia, Beatrix knew, had a tendency to deal with pre-combat stress by making jokes, and sometimes it could turn to nervous chatter. "We'll be in battle soon enough, and this will be over."

"Yes, General. The last estimate of troop strength in the warehouse was around thirty men, their combat skills unknown. Two platoons, forty knights, along with your skills, should suffice."

"I certainly hope so." Beatrix was not given to doubt, but she couldn't help but wonder if she was missing something. The reason why men were willing to die for Lamplight was a missing piece that she wished she could have had before the battle commenced. She doubted it would matter; she could defeat the thirty or so men Lamplight had assembled herself, if need be. But still, it lingered, nagging at her. _It matters not, but I can't help but wonder if I'm making a mistake._

The boats made their way down to the docks, Maia navigating them to their destination with hand signals as they drew closer to the water front. The plan was to take the two platoons to a dock near the warehouse and disembark them rapidly, then assume positions around the building and attack in force. It was a good plan, a simple plan, and Beatrix knew that if Lamplight had any chance of defeating them, he would have anticipated such an attack, and would somehow manage to ambush them here, or when they disembarked. So when the two platoons managed to make it to the shore and to the docks unmolested, Beatrix again had to feel a twinge of doubt and worry. _This is going too easily; what is Lamplight attempting to accomplish?_ The two platoons marched down the docks, moving quietly, and Beatrix quickly realized that there was no sound coming from any of the buildings around Lamplight's property. Maia noticed this as well, and whispered to Beatrix "Everyone knows we're coming, don't they, General?"

"Less of a chance that anyone else will join in, Maia," Beatrix answered. Maia nodded, but uncertainly, and Beatrix knew that Maia shared her doubts. Beatrix wondered if perhaps she was not dealing with an expert in sedition, an arrogant, reckless man, but perhaps a fool, who had created loyalty out of charisma or by buying it. _Perhaps Lamplight is only a fool, an incompetent bumbler, and no true threat to the Queen._ Beatrix hoped it was so.

The platoons moved in silence towards their destination, and as they neared the warehouse Maia began issuing commands via hand signals, detailing squads to take up positions behind old crates, barrels, the usual debris that filled the docks. Maia sent the second platoon past the warehouse, having already coordinated their placement with the squad leaders, and they went to assume their positions. Meanwhile, Beatrix watched the warehouse, the windows dimly lit, no shadows behind them. _Lamplight's men have to be watching us from somewhere, _she thought, crouching behind an old crate. _Unless they are complete fools, _she thought. She realized that one of the shadows on the dock was moving toward her, and her night vision allowed her to see that it was Dian, the head of the detail of domestic guards that was assigned to surveillance on the docks. Dian, who was virtually indistinguishable from the usual drunkards that hung around the docks and near the inns, saluted Beatrix and whispered, "Nothing has changed, General. There was been no activity for nearly an hour."

"Let's see if we can change that," Beatrix said. She was tired of the tension, of the waiting, of this petty game, and she decided to act. She rose and drew Save the Queen and to the amazement of Maia and the others marched towards the main doors of the warehouse. She raised the sacred sword and announced that she had arrived on the scene by dealing the wooden doors a mighty blow that shattered them into a million pieces and, in theory, should have frightened Lamplight's men into submission.

That theory was instantly dismissed as she realized a wall of crates was falling towards her.

Later, after the battle was over, Beatrix realized that Lamplight's workers had created a deadfall composed of crates that had been inside the warehouse, designed to collapse when someone opened the doors, which along with a network of ropes had been balancing the deadfall. She supposed it was a clever ruse, but with literally tons of wood and metal falling towards her, she had no time to appreciate the cleverness of the attack. Her reflexes took over, and Save the Queen moved, like a thing alive, Beatrix using more of her power than she had in years. The sword sliced through crates as they fell towards her, the blade funneling the deadfall around her in both directions as if it was a stream and she an unmoving rock. She felt something brush her cheek and blood begin to flow down her face, but she did not have time to worry about that. In a second that lasted forever, Beatrix fought against the trap, cursing her rash foolishness, hearing her master tell her that the only foe that truly defeats a fighter is the fighter herself. And then it ended, leaving Beatrix standing in a heap of wood and metal that blocked a decent portion of the doors. She sensed movement in the warehouse and jumped aside just as a flurry of arrows from perhaps five archers slashed the air at her. "Maia!" she cried, ordering the attack to begin.

Maia rose and shouted orders at the platoons, and the squads began to move forward into the entrance that Beatrix had rashly cleared for them. Beatrix peered around the corner of the door and saw that the crates within had been rearranged into a maze, a battlement that her forces would have to penetrate._ What the hell is Lamplight up to? He can't escape from here, and even if he defeats us, which is unlikely, he will eventually be over run. This makes no sense._ She dove inside, hoping that her familiar profile, as Maia liked to say, would draw the fire of the archers, and indeed, arrows darted towards her as the first squads raced in. With a shout, men charged from behind the first row of defenses, and the battle was joined in earnest. And here, for all the planning that Lamplight had apparently made, was when things came apart. For Lamplight's men were no match for the battle hardened troops of Alexandria, and they quickly began to fall. After a few minutes of unequal fighting, the survivors retreated into the maze, and Beatrix decided that it was time to take the offensive in truth. "Don't follow them into the maze!" she ordered. Behind her, Maia's few archers had engaged the ones that hid in the rafters, keeping them from attacking. Beatrix leaped on top of the maze and saw the few survivors of the first attack looking up at her in awe. "Gentlemen," she said, and fell upon them. 

Following Beatrix's example, the platoons made their way on top of the maze and engaged their opponents from above, suffering very few losses and slaughtering their foes. Beatrix realized very quickly that the maze did not take up the entire warehouse floor, and she imagined that Lamplight waited beyond the maze, waiting for her. Maia had caught up with her, and she shouted in her ear, "Well, they started off well," and Beatrix nodded. The forces of Alexandria penetrated the defenses of Lamplight, killing men who knew they were defeated and fought with a mindless fury that did not shock Beatrix; she'd seen it before, in Lamplight's men. After ten minutes of fighting, Beatrix and Maia cut through the last band of men and emerged into the clear...and Lamplight was there, alone, standing in the middle of the clear space that his men had fought and died for. He carried his walking stick in one hand and a sword with an unusually curved blade in the other. His expression was insanely calm as he considered the two soldiers of the Queen. "Ladies. I see you have finally chosen the proper method to accept my invitation," he said.

"Joshua Lamplight," Beatrix began, "you are under arrest for plotting treason against the Throne."

Lamplight, amazingly, began to laugh. "General, General, I care not for the throne, or Alexandria. The purpose of all of this was to bring you here, to engage me in combat."

Maia shook her head in disbelief. "That's it? All the planning, all the men you sacrificed, all of this, was just because you want to fight the General?"

Lamplight's smile was a thing of pure evil. "To battle her, to see how she responds to situations, to test her. My plans are not directly concerned with Alexandria, but her power is something I have to consider."

Beatrix raised Save the Queen. "You are a fool if you wish to challenge me, Lamplight."

"And you are a fool to underestimate me, General. Allow me to demonstrate."

And in one instant, Lamplight demonstrated just what motivated his men to fight to the death for him by clearing the distance between himself and Beatrix and striking her with a blow from his stick that hurled her into the maze of crates. She had never felt such a blow, not even from her masters, and not since she had attained her current level of power. _It's fear, _she thought, trying to clear her head, _his men are afraid of him and that is why they fight as they do._ She tried to rise to her feet, seeing through her one good eye Maia raise her sword and attack.

Lamplight parried the strike with a blow that shattered Maia's sword, and Beatrix's heart went cold with fear as she tried to make herself move to defend Maia. Maia's hands were bloody from shards of the metal of her sword that had cut her, and her face was pale with fear. Lamplight raised his staff over his head and said "Die," and smashed it into the ground. A globe of energy exploded from the ground, throwing Maia into the nearest wall, shattering the windows, and rocking the very foundations of the warehouse. Beatrix did not have to have been trained in the white arts to see that Maia was dead, her body broken beyond the repair of any spell. She rose to her feet and the world fell away from her as rage filled her; she forgot her troops, the mission, and her loyalty to the Queen. All she saw, all she knew, was Joshua Lamplight. Lamplight looked her way and said, coldly, "Foolish child. She knew she could not defeat me, but she attacked. Loyalty is strange."

Beatrix lifted Save the Queen. "I'm going to kill you, Lamplight," she spat.

"You are welcome to try." 

For the first time in years, Beatrix faced a foe using all of her power and skill, and amazingly enough Lamplight managed to keep up with her, using both the sword and what she belatedly realized was not a walking stick but a mage's staff of some sort to parry her blows. She was clearly stronger than he...every blow she threw shook him to the bone, she could tell...but his skill made up for it was. He mounted a brief offensive flurry, driving her back, and when he'd cleared a space he built his power into his staff again. Beatrix wasn't about to let him do to her what he'd done to poor Maia; she kicked him squarely in the face and struck at his heart with Save the Queen. He managed to recover and swept the staff into her ribs, and she felt one break. Lamplight took a step back from her, his breath coming in gasps, and he sneered at her. "I imagine that's the worst that anyone has ever hurt you, General."

Beatrix shook her head. "You have no idea what kind of pain I've felt, Lamplight. Allow me to show you what pain is."

They battled all over the warehouse then, blades flashing like bolts of lightning from the heavens, and anyone who knew combat knew that the question of who was going to win had been answered. The only question was exactly how long that Beatrix would need to defeat Lamplight. She drove him across the floor, over the maze of crates, and out onto the docks, her blade drawing blood from his arm, his cheek, his leg. She was faintly aware that her platoons were cheering her on, and she knew why; Maia was beloved amongst the troops, and Lamplight, in his arrogance, his bizarre need to test her, had killed Maia. _This still doesn't make any sense, _Beatrix thought as she continued to battle him, _why would he do this? I'm going to kill him-whatever plans he has die with him._

Unless they aren't HIS plans.

With a shout, Beatrix clove his sword in two with a single blow, knocking him back against a barrel. Lamplight looked at the stump of his sword with almost a bemused expression then threw it away. "You are quite skilled, General. You will prove a formidable foe."

"You are insane, Lamplight. You are defeated. Your plans, if they are truly yours, end here."

Lamplight smiled ferally at her. "I am not yet defeated, General." He threw the staff at her face, and as she avoided it she felt him build his power. He raised his arms over his head, shouted "Hades Bomb!" and pointed his hands at her.

A globular explosion erupted around her, the force of it shattering the front of the warehouse and breaking every window for a half mile. Surely, anyone observing the blast would have thought Beatrix dead...but before the blast had had a chance to disperse, Beatrix leaped out of the explosion, Save the Queen held above her head. "_Shock!!!" _she cried, Save the Queen glowing with power, and the last thing she saw was the stunned expression on Lamplight's face as her attack hit him.

Then the force of his attack caught both of them and threw them into the water.

Epilogue(1):

Queen Brahne and Princess Garnet attended the funerals of the six people, including Maia, killed in the attack on Lamplight, which perhaps would have amused Maia if she were there to see it, Beatrix thought.

Beatrix stood at the head of the honor guard assembled for the grave side service, her right arm, which had been broken in the force of the final attack, in a sling. When her troops had pulled her out of the water, barely conscious, she had clung to Save the Queen with a deathgrip with her numbed right hand, as if she had expected Lamplight to rise from the water and continue their battle. Perhaps the fear had been somewhat justified; she had never faced a foe such as him, and perhaps never would again. Lamplight was presumed dead, although his body had yet to be found, and his death had only added to the mystery. All of his men were dead, except for the boy servant and a few employees that had not been in the warehouse at the time of the attack, and Beatrix hoped that they would be found. For Lamplight's offices at the warehouse held no business records, no clue to the plans that he mentioned or even if he served another master...it was almost as if he had created his business solely to have a reason to be in Alexandria to fight her. It was a mystery that perhaps never would be solved, and Beatrix found that she did not care. Maia was dead. Her friend and compatriot had died in battle, died when she had fallen into the crossfire of a war that she did not understand. And as she always did, Beatrix used that failure to fuel her ambition. _I am Beatrix of Alexandria, the strongest fighter in all of Gaia, and I will be stronger yet, _she thought, watching as the Queen stepped up to the six graves of these heroines of Alexandria and began to speak of their sacrifice. Steiner and his knights were there as well, honoring the dead, and for some reason Beatrix found that gesture touching. Steiner was a fool, but he was a fool who had his heart in the right place.

As Queen Brahne spoke, Beatrix found herself thinking not of the battle that she had just fought, the battles to come, or even Maia, but rather, she thought of the last day that she had spent in the circle of candles, in the training of her master. She had spent six years under his training, and she had never forgotten anything that he had told her, even if she believed that she had surpassed him at the last....

__

Beatrix is seventeen years old, a young woman of staggering beauty, and her looks as admired by men as her combat skills are by her fellow students. She stands in the center of the ring of candles, her sword master having just presented her with the Sacred Sword, Save the Queen. He considers her from outside the ring of candles and begins to blow them out, one at a time. There are rumors that he is done with the school, that he means to return to his home and begin the training of the son that his wife gave birth to in the past few years, and that Beatrix is his last and greatest work. "All life ends, Beatrix," he tells her. "No matter how hard you try, no matter what skills you apply to a situation, all lives are finite. Even yours." One by one the candles went out, casting the room in shadows, until only one remains. "That is the last lesson that I will teach you, Beatrix. No matter what, all lives come to an end." His blue eyes lock on hers. "Do you understand me?" She nodded not truly understanding, but eager to bring this to a close. Her master shakes her head. "No, you do not. But you will, someday." With that, her sword master, Desmond Alfredsson, blew out the last candle, and said, "I teach you no more. Life teaches your lessons now."

And now, over a decade later, Beatrix began to believe that she understood what her master meant; that sometimes, despite training, skill, and intent, lives ended, and sometimes you were helpless to stop it. _Maia, _she thought, _I will try to honor your memory and become so strong that no fighter will ever challenge my might, and the name of Beatrix will bring fear to any who face me. And in that way, I will overcome all that would wish to do as Lamplight did with you. I will learn from this, and become stronger, so those weaker will not fall._

Brahne concluded her speech, and with that, the service was over. Princess Garnet came over and offered her sympathy to Beatrix, who accepted it with grace, and then the royalty left, Steiner and his knights following them. Her troops left as well, as if sensing that she wanted to say a private farewell to Maia, her friend. When all were gone, Beatrix knelt beside the open grave, took a handful of dirt, and sprinkled it over Maia's coffin. "Goodbye, my friend. I failed you. I will never fail again."

She could almost hear Maia's voice, laughing in the wind. _Didn't you learn anything, Beatrix? Everyone dies. Soldiers sooner than others, but we all die. Now you go and remember me, but don't forget yourself, my friend._

Beatrix wiped tears away from her eye. "Goodbye, my friend." And then she turned on Maia's grave; her heart hardening with every step, so the world would once again see her as the invincible knight of Alexandria once again. And for some odd reason, she heard her sword master as well, saying that she still did not understand what he had meant all those years ago.

Epilogue (2):

Joshua Lamplight lay in a bed in the home of the mayor of Arnfeld, a small village not far from Alexandria, recovering from his wounds. At least, he considered, that fool mayor had done his part, and had been there to save him from the battle. That much at least had gone right. _She is truly formidable, but she can be beaten, _he thought. _Her arrogance will see to that._ Lamplight closed his eyes, and decided that now it was time to tell the mayor to take the steps that he had outlined to prepare the weapon that would deal with Beatrix...always assuming, he knew, that the Gaia survived what Garland planned for it. If it did, well, then, he would be there to pick up the pieces and make the next move. At least now his direct involvement was ended, he considered as he fell asleep. From now on, other powers would clash, and in the end, Joshua Lamplight would control the game. With a smile of pure malice on his face, Lamplight fell into a dreamless slumber, waiting for the day that the world either ended, or became his. 

The End.

(author's note: I hope by now that if you've read this fic and my other major FFIX fic, "Just a Boy", that I'm building towards something in the future here...I just hope I can write it. Thanks this time to Tera, who has dragged this fic out of me part by part during one of the longest bouts of writer's block I've ever had. Thanks.)


End file.
